You Just Have to Keep Moving
by deemarie
Summary: A girl has been a newsie in New York since she was eleven but has never settled down. Will she find a place? Or will what made her run all those years come back? Set before the strike. FINISHED!
1. Default Chapter

Just Keep Going

By Deemarie

Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Newsies. If I did I'd be singing and dancing right now, not writing.

Author's note: First Newsies story. Please review mine and then I will go read your story and review it. Just like Silence of the Lambs.

I closed my eyes and let the memories come before I drifted off to sleep. Two three year old children fighting over the last slice of bread. A seven-year-old boy helps his sister to hide from their ma's friends. Next, eleven years old in a boxcar leaving New Jersey and going to New York.

When we got to New York I told my brother we had to split up. And we couldn't say that we knew each other or were related. I didn't tell him why, but I insisted and finally won out. I had to keep him safe. He was all that I ever had.

So he went to Manhattan and became a newsie under Red Eye, Jack Kelly's mentor. There he sharpened his gambling skills until he became Racetrack Higgins.

And I became what I am now at age fifteen. They call me "The Traveler" behind my back but nothing to my face. The one newsie who is welcome almost anywhere but belongs nowhere.

Today on a steamy June morning in 1898 I open my eyes and sense that I've rather worn out my welcome in Harlem. Even through my hangover I can tell that cheating at cards last night was not a good idea. I must've drunk more than I thought if they caught me. The clue that tipped me off was the fact that Buzz (Harlem's leader) has all my stuff and is pointing at the door.

"Hey you," he shouts which results in the groans of the other hungover newsies "You'd better get out before I get mad and take all of your money! I don't want to see you around for at least two months!"

"Right, Buzz I totally understand. Thanks for letting me stay so long," I say ignoring my splitting headache. I grab my stuff and stagger out the door.

"Let's see. Where to now? I think Junior from Queens is still mad at me. I don't really want to go anywhere else. Damn, I was still happy in Harlem. Way to screw it up for yourself." I mumble while walking down the sidewalk.

Suddenly I hear a shout and see Sleepy, a Brooklyn birdie, melt out of the shadows.

"Hello, Sleepy. I just got kicked out of here so I've got to keep moving," I say quickly.

Moving gracefully as all Brooklyn spies do he fell in beside me and said, "Why don't you come to Brooklyn?"

"Oh, gee I wonder? Maybe because Dollar, your fearless leader, thinks girls are good for cooking, cleaning and breeding. Please don't talk so loud," I reply.

"Oh, Lord. Doesn't Harlem have anybody looking for news? We've got a new leader, Spot Conlin and he brought a girl spy with him." Sleepy explained.

"Well, that puts a whole new spin on things. Brooklyn here I come!" I shouted and took off at a run.

"Oh, damn it," I thought and turned right back around until I got to Sleepy's alley. "Sleepy what's the pal password this week?" I asked the shadows, meaning the password that told I was a friend so I wouldn't have to go through the customary interrogation and in some neighborhoods a beating.

"Sorry girlie," he mumbled. "Spot decides. Nobody else had the right to give the password. Not even to The Traveler. He mentioned you by name."

"Oh, God. Well, I'm off to get beat up. And please Sleepy don't call me girlie." I said downcast and started walking to Brooklyn.

I decide to take a detour on the way to Brooklyn and hang out in Central Park until it gets closer to night.

Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge I wondered if Spot would be the type to fall for my infamous charms. I'm good-looking and I know it. I've got the whole black hair, blue eyes thing going on. Only thing is I'm too skinny to have a fashionable body type. I just don't get enough to eat, ok? I'm not against doing a little kissing to stay in a leader's good graces, but I won't go any farther. Never any farther. That's gotten me kicked out a couple times.

I cross into Brooklyn knowing that by the time I get to the abandoned waterfront warehouse Brooklyn newsies call home Spot will know about me.

The door swings open after I knock and I step in and look around for the first time. A huge warehouse with a storage attic in the far right corner. The place was swarming with guy newsies and filled with bits and pieces of old, broken furniture and pallets on the floor.

I look to my left and see an office with a brown-haired girl hunched over like she was in pain. However, she still moved like she was dancing. She's got to be the girl spy Conlin brought with. She heads to the attic and I knock on the office door.

"Come on in," calls a male voice heavy with a Brooklyn accent.

I enter and come face to face with the new leader of Brooklyn. He's kind of skinny but he's got a dangerous look. Like he'd just as soon beat you up as talk to you. I don't think he'll fall for my charms.

"Hi, I'm a newsie. People call me The Traveler mostly. Sleepy maybe got word to you that I was coming by," I babble nervously. I stop for a second and think. I never get this nervous. I wonder what's up?

"Yeah, Sleepy mentioned you. You think you got what it takes to be a Brooklyn newsie, huh? Got any special talents?" He asked not looking up from the chair he was slumped in.

"Well, I'm good at gambling. Anything you want cards, dice or horses. I can fight with or without a knife as long as they're not too much bigger than I am. And I'm good with almost all other neighborhoods. Except Harlem. And Queens. And oh, yeah I've never spent any time in Manhattan," I say quickly.

"All right. Now stand up," he drawls "And hand over your knife."

I do and he comes at me, dropping his cane on the way to hit me with his right. Ouch, right in my eye. I get in a few punches but not as many as he does before I try to kick him in a sensitive area. Spot grabs my leg and pulls. I end up flat on my back on the floor with the wind knocked out of me. I think I'll just lay here until I can breathe again.

"Okay, you'll do," says Spot picking me up and setting me on my feet. "Go right out that door and Roast Beef'll show you the ropes."

I walk out and am joined by a boy about sixteen who walks with a very bad limp.

"Roast Beef here and I assume you're The Traveler. Anyway, it's a lot like any other place. I get everyone up at about five o'clock every morning and you go sell papes. Rent is a quarter a week and you pay me. I take a nickel for myself since Brooklyn gangs aren't very kind to gimps so I can't sell. Ten cents for wood in winter and you have to find your own breakfast. Ten cents for bread, jam and coffee in spring and summer. The other ten cents goes to savings for when someone gets hurt or sick. You got it?" He said while moving to the back of the warehouse

"Yeah, I think so. Where am I going to stay?" I inquired.

"Up here," Roast Beef said while motioning to the ladder. "Used to be storage, but now you and Magic sleep up there."

"Okay, thanks." I said, beginning to climb.

I stuck my head through the hole and looked around a dark room. As my eyes got used to the light I saw a couple of pallets on the floor with some blankets piled on one. I assumed that was mine. On the other mattress there lay a girl rasping while she struggled to breathe. It was the brown-haired girl I saw leaving the office.

Tentatively I sat down next to her and questions started to spill out, "Hey can I do anything for you? Are you all right? Should I tell Roast Beef?"

"No, I'll be fine. Spot just didn't like a bit of news that I brought to him." She whispered and struggled to sit up. "I think he just bruised my ribs."

I nodded understanding now. It was common practice for leaders to beat up their spies when bad news came in. Birdies knew it and common newsies realized it. But it wasn't usually this bad.

"Umm, but isn't this kind of well, overkill?" I asked quietly.

"Nah, I'm just no good at fighting. If I fought back I'd only have a couple of bruises like Sleepy gets," she said.

Surprised, I listened a little closer and did hear a bit of an Irish accent. Looking closer I saw pale freckled skin and green eyes. She was from Ireland all right.

She stood up and said, "I'm Magic, a birdie. You can't talk about me to anybody but a Brooklynite because Spot doesn't want anyone to know about me."

"Okay, I guess I can handle that," I replied. "Hey do you and Spot have something going on?"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! No! That'd be like dating my brother, you know. Here I am sixteen with no romantic entanglements. I'm going to sleep now."

I smiled and looked out the grimy window. Looks to be about eight o'clock. I pushed a lock of hair that'd come loose from my braid and winced. I think I'm going to have quite the shiner tomorrow.


	2. Friday Night Poker

Before I knew it, it was Friday night. Poker night for a newsie. I smiled to myself while digging in my pack at the top of my pallet. 

"Dearie, why are you smiling that evil smile?" Magic asked while climbing in the window.

"Poker night," I answered happily and then frowned. "How do you get in through that window? It's on the second story. And why?" I asked.

"Tricks of the trade to your first question and I have to keep in shape to the second one." Magic said. "Oh, by the way before you play poker tonight I'm calling in my favor."

"What favor? I owe you a favor? What kind?" I asked, confused.

"The night you first came I tired Spot out beforehand so he didn't fight you near as long as he might have. That favor." She replied to my questioning.

"Well, I suppose I could give you a hand with something. Within reason." I told her.

"Good, follow me." Magic led me downstairs and to the tiny bathroom that she and I shared. Once there she pointed to the sink and pulled a bottle out of her apron pocket. Magic was the first girl newsie I knew who actually dressed in skirts. Everyone else wore boys' clothes because usually you could get a hand me down if you weren't picky.

"All right I need to redye my hair. You can see about two inches of red and I'm sick of wearing a cap all the time," she explained to me.

"Wait a minute you dye your hair? Why?" I asked while combing the black, noxious smelling liquid through.

"Red hair is way too notice—Hey you got some in my eyes! Ouch! See if I ever let you do this again." She shouted.

"Oh, yeah. Well who else would do it?" I asked after shouting out the door for the time.

"Spot would. He used to." Magic replied, as usual not wasting any words. She was the absolute quietest person I ever knew. She either had something important to say or you had to ask her a direct question.

"Why can't I see the great Spot Conlin doing something like that? You mean he didn't beat you up while doing it either?" I said sarcastically

"Spot is a nice guy. That night I told him that three of his boys had been picked up by Snyder for stealing." Magic said quietly. "Tonight give him a chance.

I nodded reluctantly and rinsed the dye from her hair. She thanked me and left the bathroom. I followed her out and watched her stick her head in Spot's office. Then she headed out the door into the night.

Poker in Brooklyn was like any other poker game anywhere. It started off with about fifty people split into groups of five. I went and sat down at Sleepy and Roast Beef's table. Pegs, an older newsie about twenty, was also there. Cribbage was really his game but he played poker sometimes. By one o'clock I knew I was going to be miserable the next day and I had lasted to be one of the last five players. Spot was the only other one that I knew by name. Eventually he was the only other one playing. I had been really surprised; he seemed nicer and cuter the drunker I got. Eventually I had a two of hearts, three of clubs, five of diamonds, the nine of hearts and the seven of spades. A terrible hand, but I decided I could bluff through it. I reached into my pocket for more money and found that I had none. 

"Spot, ahem. Will you take my marker?" I slurred.

"Sure, girl. But not for money." Spot replied. I don't think he is nearly as drunk as I am.

"Well, then. What do you want?" I questioned warily.

"I'll tell you after. What do you say?" He asked with a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Okay. I suppose I have a good enough hand." I said cockily and wrote down a marker TO SPOT CONLIN. MARKER FER ANYTING HE WANTS.

Oh, no. He didn't fold. Not good at all. We laid down our cards next. He had a great hand! Not fair! For all I know he'll want me to have his baby or something. I hope not.

Suddenly I ran for the bathroom and just barely got there in time. Yes, I threw up more than once. When I finally left the bathroom it was dark and all I could hear was the snores of a bunch of drunken newsies. Unexpectedly I sat down and decided to sleep right there outside the bathroom. So it'll be a little uncomfortable and loud (after all Magic doesn't snore) but I won't have to walk any farther.

I had just gotten comfortable when somebody picked me up and swung me over their shoulder. Let's see. Wet hair, smells like smoke and I think they just went swimming in the river. Then he sits me on the ladder. I look up and it isn't Sleepy or even Pegs but it was Spot.

"Okay, what do you want for my marker. I think I'm sober now." I asked slowly.

Spot smiled slowly (smiled not smirked I wasn't aware he could do that) and said, "I won't collect today. However, come swimming with me. The water is great."

I looked at him and shrugged. "I might as well." I said and headed for the door. 

The night was warm and hazy. You could actually see the stars and the lights from Manhattan twinkled over at us. He stripped off his clothes to his long underwear that it seemed a little warm for but Brooklyn guys wear all year long so they can go swimming. I pulled off my button down shirt and suspenders but left my pants and undershirts on. Then we both jumped in. We swam two and a half-hours and at about four o'clock we ended up talking up on the stacks of boxes he liked to sit on. Spot Conlin had a lot of good ideas to make being a newsie a little easier. I was surprised at the way he put everyone else in the warehouse first. I was also amazed that he was the one who insisted on their being a fund for sick or hurt newsies. It took a while but eventually he kissed me. Whoa. I wasn't aware that it could feel like that. Usually when I kissed a guy I kept thinking about how because I was kissing him he'd let me stay another week, or forgive me for cheating or let me in without paying. However, with Spot I only thought about the kiss.

That night I went up to my mattress on the floor dancing on air. I had just made out with Spot Conlin because I wanted to. Not because I had to. I had to tell someone. I looked over at Magic's bed and saw that she wasn't there. I wonder where she is. Maybe Spot knows. I'll go ask. Oh, goody an excuse to go back to Spot again. 

I got to Spot's office and knocked on the door. "Hey Spot, can I come in?" I called.

"Sure doll," came the lazy answer.

I walked in and was greeted by the sight of Spot lying shirtless on the top of his desk.

"So do you have a reason for coming here or did you just miss me?" Spot asked quietly.

"I have a reason," I huffed back at him. "Magic isn't back yet and I just wondered if you knew where she was or if I should be worried."

Spot sat up quickly. "Shit. I hope she didn't blow her cover somewhere and get hurt. I mean there's a first time for everything, right?"

I felt really worried. I mean if Spot Conlin gets nervous you know that something could be up.

Spot glanced over at me. "Hey doll, do you mind if we skip selling today and go look for Magic?"

"No, I don't mind but could you think of something else to call me besides doll?" I asked exasperated.

"Well, it is hard to call you "The Traveler" What do you want to be called?" He asked as we walked to where Roast Beef slept. Spot held a whispered consultation with him and grabbed my arm as we headed towards the door.

"I don't know." I said worried. How was it that I didn't know a name for myself?

"What did they call you at your first newsie place?" asked Spot as we headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Let's see. That was Midtown and I was the only girl. So they were going to just call me girl until they came up with a better name. Only I left after a couple weeks. I just kept going those first two years. Eventually everyone called me The Traveler even after I started spending a few months at various places." I replied biting my lip at the memories that started rushing back.

"Could you tell me your real name and I'd only call you that in private?" Spot said watching me out of the corner of his eye.

"No, I don't think I want to do that. Names have too much power over people," I told Spot quietly.

"I just won't call you anything then okay? Is that all right with you?" Spot said icily.

"Look, Spot. All right. My name was Anna-Maria. All right? Are you happy now?" I practically shouted at him in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge. "But it's not Anna-Maria any more!"

"Look, I'm sorry okay. Don't make it a huge deal. My name's Patrick. How about I call you Tee?" Spot grasped my arms so hard I knew I'd bruise and made me stop.

I took a deep breath and thought about it. "All right, Tee sounds fine. But I want you to be the only one to call me that."

"Good. Because I want me to be the only one who calls you that. Now do you want to go in the Manhattan Lodging House or what? You've never spent anytime in Manhattan have you? Why is that?" Spot spit out his words very quickly.

"Just never felt like going to Manhattan I guess. I can come in if you want me to." I replied.

For an answer Spot grabbed my hand and pulled me into the door. He talked to the old man behind the desk and was directed upstairs. I followed as close as I could to spot and hoped that Racetrack wasn't there. Once we got to the top of the stairs we went into a bunkroom. I maneuvered to stay behind and kind of peek over his shoulder. Spot went to a top bunk where a blond boy was sleeping and woke him up.

"Jacky-boy. Wake up. We've got to talk to you." Spot whispered.

I looked around while Spot was shaking and slapping the kid on the bed. Finally I found my brother fast asleep on a bottom bunk. Talk about not changing. I would've known him anywhere. He wasn't even taller than I was.

I was pulled out of my reverie by Spot coming up behind me and whispering in my ear "Tee, I want to introduce you to Jacky-boy. Stop staring at Racetrack before I get jealous."

"Oh, yeah spot. Sure. Introduce away." I answered ripping my eyes away from my twin. We didn't look that much alike anymore. Same color hair and height but that was about it.

"Jacky-boy, this is my girl. You've probably heard of her. Most newsies call her" I interrupted to whisper in his ear. "What was that? Oh. Most newsies and the bulls call her The Traveler."

Jack spit in his hand and held it out to shake mine. I shook without looking disgusted which made him look kind of disappointed. Manhattan never dealt with a lot of female newsies.

"So The Traveler finally graces us with her presence. I was beginning to think you had something against my Manhattan newsboys." Jack grinned.

"Yeah, well it's a personal matter," I said quietly.

"Thanks for breaking your resolve. I can tell you two that I haven't seen anybody who fits your description or heard of any fights but you've got full permission to look as long as you need to." Jack switched to serious very quickly.

Spot shook Jack's hand and walked out with me hurrying to keep up. Spot decided we'd just go back to Brooklyn and wait.

"Spot, but what if Jack just didn't see her? She could still be in Manhattan." I called, worriedly.

"What Jack Kelly doesn't hear about Manhattan ain't worth knowing Tee. He's only got one spy but his newsies are so dedicated that they observe everything. He might not know a thing about the rest of the city but he knows Manhattan." Spot shook his head. "I'm betting she just spent the night on the street. She does that sometimes. Worries all of Brooklyn to pieces."

We walked back to Brooklyn and I ended up somehow under Spot's arm the whole way home. We would've got back sooner if Spot 'd walked faster and not stopped to admire the view quite so often.

When we walked into Spot's office we were greeted by Magic who was sleeping in the desk chair.

"Tee get out of here. Magic report!" Spot barked.

I backed out the door as fast as I could. I had no wish to see Spot in a temper. I could only hope that Magic would fight back this time.


	3. Saved and Misunderstood

About twenty minutes later Magic joined me in the loft. Gladly she didn't seem to be injured until she turned her face toward me. She had a red spot the size of a hand on her cheek!

"Magic what happened? Are you okay? Does it hurt? Did Spot do it?" My words seemed to tumble out my mouth faster than I could think.

"Just a little bruise. Nothing else happened, so I'll be fine." Looking up she saw I was still worried so she continued, "Look, I'm betting you've seen Sleepy like this before. Or even Alley Cat from Midtown or anyone from anywhere. Calm down."

"If you say so."

"Yes, indeed I say so. Now I am going to work. You should probably go to sleep. You look tired." Magic ordered me, pushing me onto my mattress.

The next I knew it was twilight and Spot was yelling from downstairs. Why was he shouting at me? We don't even get along. Shaking my head I remembered the events of the past night and day. I _really_ kissed him? Like I made a choice to kiss him? The Traveler does not get close to people. That gets people hurt. What the hell was I thinking? I went downstairs to try and let him down easily.

"Hey Tee," he greeted me and pulled me into a kiss.

"Look, Spot." I paused. Why couldn't I get the rest of my speech out? Why should he be any different from any other leader I kissed to make my life easier? Besides the fact that he was cute and smart and caring and I actually liked kissing him. 

"Look at what? What's going on Tee?" Spot asked looking rather wary.

"Nothing. What's up?" I asked. God, I am such a coward. I'm going to have to break it off. But tomorrow. Tomorrow. I promise.

"I'm heading to Manhattan to go to Medda's with Jack. You want to come with?" 

"Umm, no. I think I'll just go back to sleep." If I went to Medda's I might run into Racetrack. Can't risk that happening.

"Okay, then goodnight. Look, don't go anywhere without me. Brooklyn's dangerous at night."

I headed back upstairs and tried to go to sleep. After about a half-hour of tossing and turning I decided I had to get out. I opened up the window and looked down. Heights have always made my heads spin but I really don't want someone reporting to Spot that I've left. Imagine the nerve about that man! Telling me that I couldn't go anywhere at night. I know that Brooklyn is dangerous. But I've been on my own in New York for four years. I've gotten away from muggers and rapists and… _and _Snyder! And before that Race and I were practically on our own in New Jersey. Heck, I've spent more time on the streets than anywhere else. Now how does Magic do this? I stick my head and shoulders out the window and look to the left, then right. Aha! Magic's nailed pieces of board to step on all the way down. I ease out of the window until I can grab on and start climbing down. Just keep looking straight ahead. This is entirely safe. La dee da. Nice wood this warehouse is made out of. Very woodlike. Oh, thank God! Ground! 

I jump off the wall and start walking to Queens. I need to gamble and the best place in all of New York is Detroit's. Anything you want but especially craps. I'd better hurry. It's going to be a long night. 

I get to Detroit's at about ten. Ahh, its just the way I remember. Small, smoky, loud and hot.

"Hey there, little girl. We've missed you around here." A voice came out of the smoke to my left. 

"Nathan, look I need to talk to you about a loan. You know I'm good for it." I told him quietly.

A large, muscular man (Nathan) emerged and led me to a room behind the bar. On the way I took another look around. Yessir. The dregs of society congregated in one place. I can never decide whether I fit in or whether I want to run screaming from this place and never come back. Usually, I decide I fit in. Tonight I definitely do.

"Nathan, I just need a little money. Say ten bucks." I plead with him, knowing it's either a loan or my belongings if I want to gamble tonight. And my stuff isn't worth a lot.

"All right kid. I'll give you five bucks. I want it back by the end of the night or I'm going to start taking other things. I know plenty of people who'd be happy to meet a pretty little girl.

"Thanks Nathan. You'll get your money." I gulp.

Well, I guess the fact that I didn't pay him back for two weeks last time I took a loan has really made an impression. I've got to pay, but I don't do well under pressure. Shit! 

Gotta do well. That's the phrase that runs through my head all night. I start with craps and do well for a while. But then I lose money. I try poker but I lose money. Before I know it I'm broke and Detroit's is shutting down.

"Little girl, I know you've been one of my best customers since you were only eleven, but business is business and unless you come up with five dollars and fifteen cents interest within two minutes I believe you're going to start working for me." Nathan tells me menacingly. 

"I've got the money. I'll pay for her."

I look to the table to my left. Sitting there is a boy about fifteen years old, babyface, black hair; he's as familiar to me as my own face.

"Thanks" I mumble as he hands over the money. I turn and start heading for the door.

I'm heading down the street at a dead run until I hear feet pounding the pavement and yelling.

"Anna-Maria Genevieve Higgins! Wait up! I just saved your butt in there! The least you can do is talk to me." 

I sigh and think, "Well, it is true." I stop and sit on a stoop in front of a door. Racetrack joins me there.

"Well, twin sister. You tired of running yet?" my brother asks me gravely.

"Tony, I mean Racetrack. You don't know why I'm the way I am. It's just the way things are and they will always have to be." I tell him quietly and I get up to leave.

He grabs my arm and says, "All right. But just for right now tell me about yourself and the past four years. Then after tonight you can pretend it never happened and never visit Manhattan or anything." He stopped talking and looked at me.

I think for a second. I really did miss my brother. My twin. For the first eleven years of my life he was my only constant and when I lost him I lost all sense of place and belonging.

"Yeah. As long as you do the same for me."

"Okay. You go first and let's not use our newsie names. Let's pretend we've been together all this time."

The pre-dawn hours passed so fast. It was like a missing piece of myself had been replaced and I know that Tony felt the same way. You can get other friends but no one ever replaces your twin. I learned about Race's gambling, his friends, his first love, and everything. I told him everything. Things I'd never thought about revealing to anyone else in the entire world.

Finally I looked up when I heard a noise. Spot was standing there with a look on his face like he'd been utterly betrayed. I glanced at Tony and he nodded and was gone. Spot grabbed my arm and started dragging me a long, not talking at all.

Finally he started talking or I should say yelling. "I thought we had something going! I respected your wishes and didn't call you by name and then _he _does! I tell you not to leave Brooklyn and you go to a cheap gambling and opium den! I swear that if you don't get your stuff out of my warehouse in ten minutes after we get back I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Spot, no. It's not like that. It's not what you think." I pull away from him and whimper. I am so disgusted with myself. I've never whimpered before in my life not even at the scariest moments possible. I am strong, The Traveler.

"Oh, yeah? Well, you cheap slut what is it like?" He screams into my face.

I blush and look down knowing I look extremely guilty, "I can't tell you."

Spot just shakes his head and commences dragging me down the street.

"Get out. Get out of Brooklyn." He says outside the warehouse.

I walk in proudly. I am The Traveler. I am capable of taking care of myself. Getting kicked out of Brooklyn is just like getting kicked out of Midtown or Little Italy or Harlem.

I am greeted at the top of our ladder by Magic who hands me the bundle of my things. 

"I'm sorry. I told him you were gone." Then she turns and vaults out of the window.

I walk out of the warehouse ignoring the stares of all the newsies getting ready to go to work. The ones who were my friends turn away. Sleepy, Pegs, Roast Beef, goodbye. I don't think I'll be coming back. I'm sorry. I wish I could whisper that to them but I know Spot is watching.

As I march out the door I turn and look at Spot standing in the doorway of his office. For a second his angry mask slips and I see hurt and bewilderment on his face. But only for a second. 

This time I end up in Midtown. Smash welcomes me with open arms. And I'm dead inside. I go through the motions. I play cards, shoot craps, and one night I even get drunk. A night when I don't have any money I kiss up to Smash (pun intended). Nothing has changed. I'm still alone. Spot and Tony are just memories, hell probably just figments of my overactive, lonely imagination. Weeks go by.

Then today the worst thing happens. I've hit rock bottom. You see, I needed a cigar, but I was broke. Very broke. I'd only eaten because I left a café without paying yesterday. So I took one and someone's hand closed around my wrist. I look up and who do I see? None other than any newsies' worst nightmare, Snyder.

"Hmm. Dare I think that I've finally captured The Traveler? As you know my colleague from the Newark Home for Wayward Children has been looking for you and your brother for a long time." His smile is feral as he looks down at me.

Oh, God. Not again. Before I think twice I'm thrown into the Refuge. I scrub floors and wash clothes that aren't even dirty because idle hands are the devil's workshop are they not girls? All this while waiting for my court date.

The night before my court appearance I decide I have to do something. I pick up a piece of sharp stone that has somehow escaped the matron's razor sharp eyes and start scratching on the wall. I somehow manage to print "MAGIC. T.T. IN NEWARK." I know that if anyone can help it'll be Magic. I know she's not mad at me. For all I know she know the truth about me and Racetrack. Probably. When I was in Midtown she came to see me once in a while. 

Court goes as I'd suspected. Warden Harper and Matron Smith from Newark are there and they testify. Matron Smith calls me "a poor unfortunate girl who never had any opportunities being the child of a prostitute."

Warden Harper gets a bit more technical, "I discovered poor Anna-Maria and her twin brother Anthony Louis when they were only ten gambling and living on the streets. I took them into the Newark Home for Wayward Children and they lived there quite happily…"

Happily? I doubt that. We had barely enough to eat and we were worked hard. Every day we had to pray for our souls because we were wicked, wicked sinners. Warden Jonathon Harper scared me the most though. One day I was cleaning his office and he found me. He told me that I was going to become a servant out West somewhere and that Tony was going to be kept at the Home. He said that if I ran and they caught Tony they'd hurt him. Hurt him bad. I couldn't go be a servant to be worked until I died. I'd heard the stories of the girls who came back. Some were beaten and starved. One even was expecting a baby. But I couldn't leave Tony. So we left together. But I made him split up. That way if they found me he'd be safe. I have to keep him safe.

"I rule that this girl be taken back to The Newark Home For Wayward Children until she becomes an adult. Namely, twenty-one or married." That was the judge talking.

So I go back. I'll find a way to escape. That or Magic'll find me. Either way I've just got to keep moving. After all, I've got to try to get Spot back. And I want to really get to know my brother again. Just keep moving.

Thanks to Rayne, Derby and Moody for your kind reviews. I hope you liked this chapter. If people want a sequel to this please tell me. I'll probably write one but I'd like to know if people will read it.


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